


Anything but Cyvasse

by Ashesintheair



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Consensual Kink, F/M, Light Bondage, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-23
Updated: 2015-06-23
Packaged: 2018-04-05 20:36:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4194045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ashesintheair/pseuds/Ashesintheair
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>High-born hostages of Daenerys Targaryen, Sansa and Jaime find some other ways to pass the time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anything but Cyvasse

The wood was warm, the polished surface pressed tight against her cheek, and she tried to focus on that feeling. Her breath rushed out with a shudder, but she stayed quiet and tried to remember how her arms ache, how there is an itch right between her shoulder blades where she can feel his eyes.  
  
They had both spent weeks as high born hostages to the Dragon Queen and had found amusements beyond the cyvasse board, still untouched. Jaime didn’t have the patience - not for cyvasse, anyway - and that type of game reminded Sansa too much of Baelish for it to be a pastime she would choose to indulge in.  
  
The golden hand pressed into the small of her back and she whimpered, because that makes her remember the living fingers, not that she needs much cause to bring them to mind just now.  
  
She heard Jaime laugh and caught a little glimpse of him out of the corner of her eye. “You only have to ask.”  
  
She gritted her teeth and stayed silent. The curtain tie around her wrists was her little game, and one he had been surprised at, though it hadn’t stopped him from throwing himself into it. The words? That was his little game, and one that seemed to irritate and amuse him in equal measure, because, even still, after everything, it was the one thing she couldn’t do. Not until she was driven to it, anyway.  
  
How to make him understand that it wasn’t just a mask of courtesies? Too many things had been drilled into her by her septa - words that ladies didn’t say, for example.  
  
His fingers brushed over a sensitive spot, once, and Sansa arched her back, pressing her breasts into the tabletop. She moaned again and bit her lip until it bled. He was good with his fingers, good enough to keep her there as long as he wanted.  
  
She was uncomfortably aware of just how obscenely wet she was, how easily his hand moved against her, the way she canted her hips trying to provoke him without saying anything at all. He kept going, just long enough, finding just the right places to make her pant and feel the build up of heat in her stomach and then he would draw back, never quite letting it die away, but not enough. It was never enough.  
  
It didn’t take long for the pent up need to flood through her and wash away all the careful lessons and courtesies. The veil dropped.  
  
“Fuck me. Now. Or I’ll never let you into my room again.” She could feel the burn in her cheeks but she didn’t care anymore. He pushed inside her and his good hand slipped back down between her legs.  
  
She let out a groan as he moved, all his pretense at patience gone now, and she rocked back against him as the sweat beaded on her back. Her legs started to shake but it didn’t matter. Everything that was Sansa was focussed on the heat in her stomach as it built again, tight and hot. Her mouth was working in an abstract way. “Yes. Yes,” she heard herself say, and then, “Please.”  
  
Her vision went white as she came around him, and she cried out. Whatever strength had been left in her legs had vanished completely, but his hand was at her hip now, digging in while he thrust madly into her. It still felt good and her whimpers matched his until she felt the fingers on her hip tighten convulsively and he lay panting on her back.  
  
Her legs felt like they would give out and her arms burned, but Sansa smiled to herself. It was a long way better than cyvasse.  
  



End file.
